


Queen of my heart

by Rogercat



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Blue Mountains | Ered Luin, Dwarf Courting, Dwarf Culture & Customs, F/M, Gen, Loving Marriage, Princes & Princesses, Royalty, Surprise Kissing, Wedding Night, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 05:16:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16988715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogercat/pseuds/Rogercat
Summary: it is a big dayt for Dís, since this is the day she will stand as a bride





	Queen of my heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HSavinien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HSavinien/gifts).



> Dwalin refused to show up during the writing due to getting his hand stuck in a cookie jar and trying to free himself before the wedding

Third Age year 2850:  

 

It was not not quite a normal day which dawned in the Blue Mountains this fine summer day. No, for the Dwarves living in the current capital of Durin's Folk, commonly called Thorin's Halls after the ruling King, it was going to be a big holiday.      

 

The reason behind the festive atmosphere? A wedding was going to happen. Not King Thorin II Oakenshield as the groom, no, but rather his younger sister Dís, the only Princess who had been born of the royal line over the three past generations. She was to be the bride today.                           

 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

 

“Princess Dís? My lady princess, may I have a quick word with you if you have some spare time?” Balin, a advisor of the royal family, requested kindly as he entered the chambers where some court ladies was getting the bride ready for the ceremony later.

 

“A moment, Balin, we need to finish my hair.”  

 

He did not have to wait for long. Soon, a Dwarrowdam with a very long hair and beard in the colour of a shining raven's wing, came out from another chamber. Her eyes was a deep blue, just like those of her older brother. Because a wedding was a rare event among the Dwarven kin thanks to Dís and her fellow Dwarrowdams was very rarely born, it seemed that Dís planned to show off her royal status with a wedding dress in a light purple colour and patterns made with silver thread. No hint of gold, as it was still a too strong reminder of what had attracted the dragon to come and attack Erebor, driving them out from their Kingdom. 

 

Dís was absolutely stunning, even right now without her wedding jewelry to add in her hair and beard. She had always been a beauty, like any other Dwarrowdam, but it was said that during a wedding day, the bride's natural beauty would outshine anything else. She was now twice the age she had been at her coming-of-age ceremony, a important event in her life as that had marked her as a full adult and able to start getting marriage proposals from suitors, even if it was recommended that she would be past her mid sixties when entering marriage to ensure that she would not suffer any harmful damage from a pregnancy at a too young age.       

 

“Aaah, a true jewel worthy the blood of Durin the Deathless. The husband chosen by your heart may not be a noble, but he would not be the first consort from the lower classes in the royal line which a new heir carries the blood of.”

 

“Balin, you are always a such charmer. Are you really sure you do not want to meet up with one of my ladies one day and share a meal over a little talk? You are not too old for marriage and manage to have a little one yet,” she smiled warmly at him. She knew that he or his brother Dawlin could have been her husband, but she viewed them both as close family, meaning that she never had felt anything like romance towards any of them. Same with her second-cousin Dáin Ironfoot, the current Lord of the Iron Hills. No, she was happy with her choice of husband and that was something she would stand at.   

 

“I feel that I make better use to help the King and our people, Princess. And there is a lot of younger people who can keep a chosen lady far more happy during a long marriage than leaving her as a widow in the best years of her life.”

 

Well, that was a logic Dís could not disagree with. A short marriage followed by a long widowhood held not very strong promise in children due to Dwarves only marrying once, despite the slim chance of a child being conceived before the death of the father. Ever since the official betrothal, she had prayed every morning and evening to her Maker and his Green Lady to be blessed with children from her body as Thorin was too focused on his duties as King to even think of marriage himself. And with their middle brother Frerin already dead in battle since fifty-one years back, it was on her the heir-making duty had fallen.

 

“I understand. Please bring a message to my brother and my groom that we soon are finished, it is only my wedding jewelry left to do,” Dís requested, and Balin left to make that little errand. 

 

While most of her long hair was left to fall along her back, her maids created a relaxed twisted crown around her head by braiding two smaller parts of her hair into a headband-like crown where small silver fastings could be set.

 

Finally, it was time for her to wear the wedding jewelry. A set of large silver earrings, formed with Dwarven symbols for femininity with more rounded edges rather than the straight lines of masculinity and adorned with sapphires. Similar with a matching necklace, yet the favorite piece of the jewelry for Dís was the crown, simply because of the central image of a male lion which would go over her forehead. Somehow, it felt like a inspiration for something she could not yet name. But the thought of a son with the bravery and strength of a lion, the large cats living in the far south, felt very pleasant indeed. 

 

“A golden-haired one like Orvar, and another child with a hair close to the raven black that is so common across the Line of Durin...maybe a daughter, to match my own rare birth even among the royals…” 

 

No one thought it odd in that Dís seemed struck in a daydream at the moment, it was not unheard of among brides on their wedding day that they liked to imagine how life after the wedding could be for them. 

 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

 

Meanwhile, in a different chamber, Thorin was helping his soon to be brother-in-law dress in the robes he would wear during the wedding ceremony. 

 

“Be grateful for that this actually is a very simplified style of the wedding clothes worn by the groom at a royal wedding. In Erebor it would be even more grand with jewels sewn on to match the dress of the bride, from what I remember seeing of my father's wedding robes as a child,” Thorin explained as they checked so Orvar could move without falling over by mistake. As the groom, Orvar wore a white silk tunic held up with a leather belt, black pants and leather boots. Over that, he wore a black robe of brocade fabric with wide sleeves opening at the elbow to fall down, with patterns in silver thread to match his royal bride.   

 

“I believe you on that.”

 

Orvar was from a merchant background by being born in a trader family, so in term of social status he was not exactly close to the bottom of the Dwarven sociality but it was still noticeable rare for a royal Princess to marry a such husband. But he was a genius with money or other kind of payment, a skill much needed for the royal family now when they had lost Erebor many years before. 

 

“My whole family would be happy to see Dís married and having children, since I have yet to find a lady to wed myself.”

 

“You do realize that she have started to claim that you already are “ _ married to the duty of a leader _ ” as she called it, you know?” Orvar deadpanned, taking great care in adding the beard jewelry in silver on the right places. As someone who worked with his body and of not so high status, he could be a bit rough around the edge but he had a hidden charm below. That he was very handsome with brown eyes and a stunning blonde colour on his hair and beard, very well cared for as any Dwarf with self-respect would do, it was no wonder that he had caught the attention of Dís already when she was younger.  

 

Once he was done, Orvar sent Thorin to change into some better clothes as well. Just because they were in exile from their homelands, it did not excuse Thorin from wearing his best clothing on this day when his only sister married.

 

Thorin dressed in a dark blue tunic and white pants. He normally preferred a simple style, one better suited for working, but today he could bear to have a more royal style and even a few hair beads his father and grandfather once had worn in the days before Erebor fell. After all, Dís would not accept her brother and King to refuse looking his finest on a day like this. Not when he was her only close family member left alive. Dain, as a second cousin, counted more as a distant relative because he was not from the direct line of Durin the Deathless.         

 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

 

One wedding custom which had survived all the way from the glory days of Khazad-dûm, was that the bride and groom would light a special candle, shaped like a war axe, together. Then give a offer to Yavanna made of freshly baked bread and summer fruits, offered at a small altar where two statues of Aulë and Yavanna stood together.  

 

“From before your birth, Mahal marked you to one day become one, when you found each others. This day you prove that his choice was right, by marrying and become spouses. Since you have consented to join together in the bond of matrimony, and have pledged yourselves to each other in the presence of these witnesses...”  

 

Proving that he was known as a undaunted character despite not being a warrior, Orvar dared to kiss Dís before the high priest even had spoken that part. Not that she seemed to mind, judging from the heavy blush on her cheeks and look of admiration in her eyes. 

 

“I may not be a King, a Prince or even of royal blood, but I promise that no matter what, Dís will always remain the Queen of my heart,” Orvar promised, kissing her hands as proof, much to the delight of her court ladies and others who were a bit more into romance. At Thorin's side where they was seated as the closest kin to the bride, Dain dared to laugh heartily. 

 

“They will make a fine couple. Hopefully a few children will arrive in the coming years.”

 

Since they were enough close for her to hear, Dís smiled a sweet yet warning smile aimed at her brother. The kind which tended to terrify him despite that she was fourteen years younger than Thorin.  

 

“If there is no children born from me in the next fifteen years, you will have to marry and do the heir-making yourself,  **_brother dearest._ ** Dain have already mentioned something about a betrothal for himself in the coming two years, remember?” 

 

“ **_Dís!! Not the right time for that kind of talk!!_ ** ” Thorin protested, his whole face red, while Dain and Orvar laughed over how she was able to scare the King of Durin's Folk like this.     

~X~X~X~X~X~X

 

Even if they had followed the custom of that the bride would be a maiden until her wedding night, Dís still thought that Orvar was among the finest gifts she could get from the Maker himself. Sure, Erebor had fallen and Durin's Folk faced difficult times, but it was far better than when they had to live on the road, living in tents while traveling to the Blue Mountains to try and build up a new life from the start again.  

 

“Even if we may not have a child born in fifteen months, it is not that common with a few years between the wedding and birth of the first child among our race,” Orvar said, laying on one side so they faced each others. Dís, who raised up her upper body a bit with her elbows in the pillow, smiled at him.  

 

“Yes. Love-making is something I think that I will enjoy, once we gets more used to it. We should try and have this kind of fun together before I grows too big with child that it will be too difficult and then having the little one crying both during the day and in the middle of night for various needs.”

 

Orvar nodded in agreement. This wedding night was only the start of their shared life as husband and wife, but she had a good point about enjoying being just the two of them before the family grew in the natural manner that was bond to happen eventually.    

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration for the wedding dress comes from a image of Dís by the artist lucfic56 on Deviantart and Tumblr 
> 
> In my own stories with the Dwarves in Arda, their coming-of-age ceremony is when they are aged forty-five years, which seemed to count as a logical age to be viewed as a adult, especially as Dáin Ironfoot was only thirty-two years old in his first battle, while Thorin's and Dís' brother Frerin died at the age of forty-eight in the Battle of Azanulbizar in the year 2799 of the Third Age. 
> 
> The inspiration for the bride crown that Dís is wearing during the wedding ceremony: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/85/20/0d/85200dac2eabfc27988053638fa9db79.jpg?fbclid=IwAR1EWKJts367F--gAHJ16SSfY-fRWWP0VYsR5aLd6PGe-M8XqjQBnSy9QTc
> 
> In my own headcanons about Dwarven pregnancy, the full time is fifteen months between conception and birth, because Tolkien wrote that Elves are pregnant for a whole year and humans nine months, so why not have it as fifteen months to celebrate each one of the Seven Fathers of the Dwarves twice over and one extra month in the honor of Aulë?


End file.
